NGE: The Evangelists
by Prophet Malachi
Summary: It is the epic tale of humanity’s childhood, the uncertain adolescence and the unprecedented future of reaching its maturity as the civilized world as they know it threatens to crumble apart.


Author's Disclaimer: You know what... the hell with the copyrights! Starting from now on, Neon Genesis Evangelion is my bloody franchise, and be grateful for it. It took them over 10 years to make the Rebuild series, and I think they pretty much lost their rights by this point as far as I am concerned. I own all the characters, the storyline and anything I want!

The above statement is for entertainment purposes only. Neon Genesis Evangelion is owned by Gainax. Don't mess with the copyrights, children.

.

.

* * *

.

God is in heaven, and all is right with the world.

.

That is the motto we have at NERV, a giant non-profiting military complex recognized world-wide with a sole dedication to fight against the alien invaders known as the angels… or so the paper say anyway. While the media loves to make speculations and play around with conspiracy theories as the apocalyptic year of 2026 approaches, majority of the people are more or less apathetic about it. When government agencies and public media repeat the same story for over a decade, even the first encounter with extraterrestrial beings can't make the front page. It's all part of the plan, even if it was really a crazy gamble in nature. I guess it's our nature to take in comfort of these things, leaving big shots to deal with our problems as the world went on with their daily lives.

So when the NERV pickup never showed up on time… suffice to say, it can cause most discomfort.

I managed to keep myself occupied with my SDAT as the train station continues to unload the supplies in preparation of our special guest. Soldiers rushing out with their guns… tanks and artilleries struggling to escape the exodus traffic, and officers desperately trying to organize the largest military convoy since the D-Day.

Well, at least God Himself is about to get a rather unpleasant surprise.

My new cell phone, given my NERV so graciously along with the invitation letter, was out of battery. All the public lines were dead, and many of the foreign military personnel were too busy to deal with a scrawny little kid when the future of mankind is at stake.

So I continue to sit on the typical plastic bench, drowning myself with classic symphonies as the Third Angel walked, slowly yet steadily, towards the HQ. It's really a spectacular view, really. A real giant monster marching to the heart of Tokyo as UN military throwing every military arsenal they can think of… it's quite a sight. It puts Japanese Godzilla movies in shame, so to speak. Heck, I would have even cared for cigar if I wasn't a minor.

.

Well, not to worry. Someone is bound to figure out and pick me up eventually.

.

* * *

**Neon Genesis Evangelion: The Evangelists **

_The Days of Second Impact_

* * *

_._

_  
Damn that freaken kid! I swear to God, I will roast him alive if I ever get my hands on him…_

_Misato, please do not tell me that Shinji is not with you? Just please… things are complicated as it is…_

_God damn it, Ritsuko! How is it my fucking fault that the kid is not answering his cell? What kind of idiot changed his flight schedule and have him come in a freaken train? My men waited hours on the airport until your people so kindly told me about the schedule change at the last minute! Oh, don't give me that bureaucratic bullshit! Just remind me to fire Maya when this is all over._

_Sigh… just find him and get it over with. Rei is already prepped for launch, so we are counting on you._

_Oh, great. No problem…. I just love pressure. I eat it for breakfast. Keep me freaken posted if your people can manage that. GET THE HELL OUT OF THE FREAKEN ROAD, you idiots! _

Needlessly to say, Major Misato is thrillly pissed.

Misato was a very famous for number of reasons. She was a brilliant strategist, a careful marksman, a born leader, a rare beauty… the list goes on. But in the roads with her signature blue Lamborghini convertible, her reputation commands all creatures to do one thing – that is, get the hell out of the road! So the UN troops and vehicles desperately threw themselves off the road to make way while her so-called bodyguard units from Section 2 were frantically tried to keep up.

_._

_  
Johnston?_

_Ma'am? _

_That little rat could be anywhere at this point. I will head over to the meeting point that our intel is claiming just in case if he's smart enough to stay put, but you guys fan out and encircle the perimeter. Report in every 10 minutes or when you find the kid, whichever comes first… got it?_

_Right away, ma'am. We are gonna split when we enter highway 22 then._

_Oh, and Johnston?_

_Ma'am? _

_Don't call me ma'am. _

.

It was the economical utopia for Tokyo-3, despite the government policies that made Karl Marx to go white with amazement. The roads were all smooth and well-organized, which tends to be a key sign of efficient economy. There were banks and businesses everywhere, all enjoying the massive economic boom while much of the world rapidly fell into economic holocaust. Poor yet determined immigrants from all over the world have been trying but unable to support them due to heavy government interventions. Japan, with a long history of being highly isolationist, didn't welcome the immigrants so much unless they were here for UN business, and UN never really interfered with foreign economies other than to literally pour free money for all to grab. The relocation of wealth from hard-working but poor countries to increasingly bureaucratic and irresponsible so-called developed countries… this concept was nothing new. But the scale that was done would nonetheless impress even the most hard-core communist bureaucracies. Hundreds of countries worked and saved the wealth to support the economic well-being of few countries, though this was really the first time the media somehow convinced the world that less than 10 countries were now monopolizing the world's wealth… all in the name of the preservation of humanity. How did they do it? Well, it all got started with the Second Impact. The world laughed and celebrated the bright future of the 21stcentury as they cheered for the turning of the second millennium. Little did they know that the world was about to enter a new dark age. The catastrophic economic and military intervention of the United States by demolishing the very seeds of capitalism that they praised and worshiped startled the foreigners' confidence ever since the collapse of the former Soviet Union. American intelligence and military agencies were everywhere in developing countries to establish incompetent governments around the world to sustain US economy at the sacrifice of their own countries' well-being. The picture became painfully obvious to the locals around the world, especially when evil communists were no longer there to justify the American influence. And just as the frustrated Japanese Empire to provoke the US for their previous economic intervention by bombing Pearl Harbor, history was doomed to repeat once again as the World Trade Center collapsed on infamous moment of 9/11, which proved to be so painfully obvious that it was a sheer wonder why American government could not connect the dots. And while the Bush administration eagerly pleased the startled crowd by condemning the Islamic fundamentalists, it was literally a 911 emergency call from the world in hope of telling US to mind their business and let the capitalism to the work as it once did to the Americans. There is a reason why the planes all headed to World Trades Center, and not the White House, Pentagon or anywhere else.

But we all know that it wasn't the America' finest moment. And in truth, that was correct. It somehow managed to get worse, when the US witnessed the first black president of America. If Bush was bad enough for starting the crisis, Obama made it even worse my sticking to his plans. Of course, you have to give the credit that Obama was much smarter and charismatic than Bush. The Bush families may have started the mess, but the world caught on when they discovered the misdeed he has done. Obama, however, was clever enough to lie to the world with straight face even as the world saw the world economy crumbling back into the longest global depression in the history of mankind. The idea that the answer to recession is to print more money in a scale resembling many failed states in Africa and continuing to spend billions, if not trillions, or their fragile currency in communist-like fashion by throwing them to failed industries and meaningless military and intelligence operations around the world is… well, not something that I would expect from my broker. But that's just my opinion anyway. Even in the current year of 2026, the impact is painfully evident. It's surprising that the idea of saving more and spending less when in debt didn't quite ring to the cradle of modern economy.

But the infamous days of the early 21stcentury pales in comparison to the year 2012. Foretold by conspiracists and economists alike as the beginning of Armageddon, they were right in some aspects. Unlike the prophecies of the end of all things, the world prevailed and lived on just as it always has been since the Big Bang. But one has to give the credit that the day changed the world forever, dwarfing all the committed wars, genocides and even the moment of 9/11 that shocked the world. And the history will forever remember, to the last breath of humanity, the global apocalypse from the remote South Pole. The consequence would devastate billions of lost souls and threatened the very foundation of the world we once knew… well, if they were still alive that is. And alas comes the humanity's darkest hour, the Days of the Second Impact…

.

Speaking of chaos and destruction… look who finally decided to show up?

.

Johnston, call up all your men. I found the kid, and I am personally dealing with this fucked up matter! Tell your men to head to the highway 24. We will join there and head straight back to the HQ, got it?

_Understood, ma'am. We will secure the roads while we wait, over._

_And call me ma'am one more time, you are FIRED! Got it?_

_Yes ma-… commander. Over and out._

.

Misato was proud to inherit many gifts from her father, even if they weren't exactly role model for her. His father was an antisocial and incompetent father with little interest to anything other than his work. While she cursed and cut all ties with her so-called dad, she had inherited many things that majority of the people did not have. One of them, whether she liked it or not, is a pair of ever-so observant brown eyes. She had the gift of knowing whether her men and coworkers being competent or not merely by looking at them. And while she wasn't always right, her tendency of getting right was on par with the instincts of the cleverest investors worldwide. And so she knew that her apartment neighbor were hired people to keep on eyes on her residence, probably to keep high ranked officials safe from angry foreign terrorists, if they managed to bypass the national border. She also knew that Ritsuko, despite her many flaws, is arguably among the most intelligent woman and a friend she would ever have… at least in the realm of science that is. She is a downright genius… she can even disprove gravity if she had to.

So when she first saw her precious cargo calmly sitting on the bench in the midst of chaos, she knew that he was anything but a normal kid. Not that she didn't already know, of course. And she knew that he wasn't a typical kid being late or get infatuated with her like every teenagers with a drop of hormone in their veins. But that mattered very little. They had a score to settle, after all.

And she will make sure that Shinji Ikari would face a living hell as long as he was in NERV, well… at least outside of the work that is. But first, to business…

_Get the hell in!_

Eloquent in its brevity… but I guess I can't complain. I picked up my suitcase and hastily made myself into the front seat as she slammed the accelerator as if it was to blame for her misery.

_._

_  
You seemed a bit surprised, Ikari. Did you finally decided to act your age for once?_

_Well… I was just startled that NERV would send you, out of all the people they could've-_

_Don't! I had enough sarcasms and ironies for today. Let's just try to get to the HQ in one piece, yeah?_

_The usual then? _

Needless to say, I didn't even try to come up with a comeback. God, I hated that kid… and strangely, he's the only guy who really knows who I am… since-

God, I really needed to bring a pack of beer today.

.

We drove a bit, passing the highway 23 and driving several kilometers over the speed limit as I stared out of the window. Her bodyguards, who were suppose to escort him, found themselves driving all the way around the ring road since the main intersection was completely demolished by failed air strike in hope of pinning the Second Angel in the Kasumigaura Lake located just above the city of Tokyo. Unlike the predictions made by military experts and Godzilla enthusiasts, the Second Angel decided to show up at Ibaraki coastline from the east instead of swimming into Tokyo Bay by coming through heavily blockaded Uraga Channel in the south. So while outnumbered JSSDF stood their ground and handful of JMSDF fleets and British fleets throwing everything they have to offer, while massive naval blockade and ground fortifications piled up in the Tokyo Bay and the coastlines around it hastily moved up north to meet the threat. With foreign military units disorganized as their respective commanders struggled to find a fair defense formation that they unanimously agreed on, all the troops rushed in with no plan. And when bunch of people with different languages and nationalities move in disorderly manner, it's a sign that the things will get really ugly. Many tanks were stuck or knocked out by friendly air or artillery strikes, while the troops were more worried about the friendly fire rather than the angels. Only some thousand troops originally stationed in the northern border were slowing the enemy down, even if their conventional weapons proved to be ineffective against the monster. British air carriers and cruisers watched helplessly as the angel literally demolished the Russian subs and walked through the JSSDF defense line as if he was coming home from work. Some heavy artilleries and powerful air strikes managed to make the monster pause, even pinning him down as the angel struggled to get out of the Kasumingaura Lake for half an hour before angel somehow began to descend up in the air and somehow destroyed 20% of total JSSDF artillery divisions in a blink of an eye. Troops were trying to blow up bridges and relocate mines as the tanks hoped to spearhead and shoot its legs to slow it down, with little success. The Russians were now outraged about the fact that their subs were destroyed while the rest of the allies were calmly relaxing in the Tokyo Bay, and the Brits were trying to get permission from UN to deploy N2 bombs… which became a problem because JSSDF refused any nuclear strike in Japan unless all the major coalition forces agreed unanimously, and that could take all day. JSSDF was already mad as it is for a radioactive nuclear explosion in Japanese sea. When this is all over, the Japs no doubt would make some outrageous demand to "compensate" their fishing industry that they already subsidize heavily on.

Well, that's as much as I can gather from her conversation with various number of commanders over her cell. Russian subs, panicked when they saw the angel in the ocean, deployed radioactive nuke warheads and literally fried all landlines except for the HQ, and all the commanders found themselves trying to communicate with their personal cell phones. Suffice to say, it's going to be a long hours of paperwork for that captain.

I guess I would stay quiet for a bit. It does sound like a day full of ironies for her. We still need her alive and… well, relatively healthy. Her obsession over beer and other exotic alcoholic drinks make even the most stereotypical Russians to shiver with awe. How the woman's lung was still intact is the biggest mystery, and it is my personal opinion that her lung should be observed and studied by biochem and organic departments around the world. But in the end, her health would fail just like all the Marlboro Men did. A mental note, he should yet again try to stop her from drinking… well, too much. One can't be too unrealistic, after all. It's a miracle that he was able to convince her to limit her drinking habit from gauging any alcoholic drink in existence to wines and light beers. Perhaps he would make more progress now. If he, a POW back then, could convince her to do that… maybe he can even persuade her to have a glass of red wine per day now that he was her coworker.

Even though we shared many things in the past, ranging from a condom to preserve our water supply in the middle of the Sahara desert to the 7.62mm Soviet rounds copied and mass produced in Algeria, there were a lot of things he did not yet understand from her. There were times when she was a complete slob, eating, drinking and oversleeping in that order. And there were times when she is completely sober and neatly dressed, and lead her people in a firm and professional leadership that many orderly and disciplined leaders find difficult in the midst of chaos. What was behind her mask was still an enigma to him, like many other staffs in NERV. He read about her family life after extensive research, including the discovery of Super Solenoid Theory that shocked the very foundation of modern physics that many physics communities around the world refuse the recognize the theory, if they managed to hear it. This was no issue to NERV, since they wanted to monopolize the theory for their own uses. Known for being the only engine to create more output in incredibly efficient manner, it doesn't take a genius that such engine was incredibly invaluable to the economics, as energy crisis is becoming more and more evident today. But the engine had much more importance than being an additional source of income that NERV desperately needed. It was the only viable and practical engine to run evangelions.

.

And that's where he came in to play.

_._

_  
The bloody hell, why hasn't the UN responded to the pressure point in sector 9?_

_Sir, the UN is currently coordinating the USAF to correct pin-point…_

_I need a secure line to talk to Captain Bardakov immediately. Who's bloody idea was it to give radioactive nukes to him in the first place.._

_Blast, the lines are still down. How long till our optical scan is back online? Our radar can't seem to track the beast down… damn the Russian fools!_

_Why the hell did the German artillery fire at highway 79? Do these God-forsaken Germans expect the 32nd_ _French Mechanized Division to grow wings and fly over?_

Oh yes, this was a true yet typical trend of how UN military operations went.

.

For an ex-naval commander Gendo Ikari, he was getting irritated as his carefully planned scenario was facing a setback after setback. The boy is several hours late, and the UN defense is turning out to be a complete disaster. With the main communication line interrupted by massive radioactive nuclear warheads, they became a bunch of lost sheep and trying to find their way into order rather than doing the job as they were supposed to be doing. He had his personal grudge against the UN for number of reasons, such as causing military and economic interventions when they themselves had little clue of what should be done. When he was fighting the Koreans in the Sea of Japan, which the Koreans are still calling it the East Sea regardless of what over 98% of the maps around the world says, a handful of dedicated and determined warships with a smart commander were more invaluable than a fleet of disorganized and decentralized UN fleets. There is a saying, it may be the Greeks that brought a thousand ships to Troy, but it was a handful of men who opened the Trojan gate. It was rather sad that the pinnacle of human military, possessing the latest technologies and vast experience gained from the past, is doomed to make a mistake that countless military leaders did in the past.

He twitched, never enough to be noticed by others, yet he did all the same every time the commanders slammed their fist on their desk. If they had so much money and manpower, why couldn't they do this somewhere else? Now I had to hire someone to clean up the mess they did.

A mental note: I need a new pair of earplugs.

__

.

I hate to break the silence, but is there a reason why all the VTOLs are moving away from the angel?

_Yeah… ah, for fuck's sake…. THEY ARE GONNA NUKE IT HERE?_

_Well, shouldn't we turn off the engine and duck?_

_Shinji! KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN AND HOLD ON TO SOMETHING NOW!_

Well, so much for a quiet ride.

.

Despite the chaotic chain of command, I guess either UN finally managed to give the nuclear strike a green light, or someone acted out of their line as military operations usually went. Either way, it would have been a great view if I could see it. Unlike the traditional nuclear warhead stockpiled by nuclear powers during the Cold War era, N2 bomb did not emit radiation. While it did make the explosive potential a bit less, the intense radiation was nullified by classified concentration of particles that were strapped around the warhead. The radiation would only affect very small area, around the size of a regular house, before the radiation is neutralized. A brilliant concept, still classified to discourage the developing nations to create their own Non-Nuclear (N2) Bomb, is probably responsible for saving millions of lives as many nuclear power countries barraged their arsenals to strategic areas to aid their quick and rapid military campaigns before order is reestablished during the beginning of the Days of Second Impact.

It was difficult to see what happened to the angel, as Misato' prized Lamborghini convertible literally flew off the highway, spinning as if it was a soccer ball while we held onto each other for dear life. People do strange things, especially when they are a step closer to death. I normally never touch anyone, especially when the person I am grabbing on to happens to be a head of UN special force with a sole goal to hunt me down wherever I went. But hey, it could have been worse. I tend to have a gun barrel pointing at me when I stepped over the danger line, so it was a welcoming change.

We said nothing, our hands and arms locked tightly around our arms and shoulders even when the car finally landed on a ground. Our ears went deaf temporarily as we waited for the explosion to settle down. Our hands were getting sweaty for holding onto a human flesh for several minutes, but it mattered very little. Death is a trait shared by anyone regardless of their stories, and I am sure even the UN troops all stood still and watched the mushroom cloud, their frustrations and angers all but a distant past... at least for a while.

Today was so not Misato' day. Her stress level is all-time high, her units were lost in God-knows where, her car is ruined and it looks like she sprained her ankles… forget the freaken car… she really needed a beer now.

_._

_  
You.. ok, Shinji?_

_Somehow. Few bumps here and there, you?_

_Wish I could say the same… I think I sprained my ankles, fuck it hurts….._

_Stay still. I am going to pull you out and treat the ankles. _

Damn the kid, he's freaken 14 and he's more reliable than her…

.

Misato was in the UN military for many years, long enough to see that child soldier wasn't a shocking thing to see. She fought alongside with many brilliant soldiers; some were even in the same age, if not younger, than Shinji himself. And yet, he still was an enigma to her. UN military promoted her not only because of her competence, but also because they were looking for people capable of combating against well organized and trained militias around the world. That's where she joined the UN Independent Mobile Division, a fancy long name for we are competent and special enough to do whatever we feel necessary without waiting for UN's chain of command.

My mission was to fulfill something that 1st, 3rd and 7thIMD failed to do – that is, to capture a boy known as Amir Arsalan Nourmofidi by the Iranian locals. While UN learned how many militias operate in Middle East and Central Asia by listening to intels and reports from small number of competent military organizations during the War on Terror prior to the Days of Second Impact, Arsalan was considered extremely intelligent and dangerous. His childhood is still a shrouded mystery, but the locals were able to confirm that an Iranian imam, infamous of being the first woman to be a cleric, adopted him along after adopting 3 girls. He appeared to be a mix of European and Asian and if not for the scarcity of foreigners in Iran, no one would have noticed him. Despite his looks, he spoke fluent Persian and Arabic at an early age. He even managed to pick up English and French, and earned a degree in mechanical and chemical engineering to work for Iran's petrochemical pipelines when he was merely 8 years old. Even when he moved to remote regions in Afghanistan, he continued to work for his family as a translator for foreign troops and a hunter.

When he joined the resistance her mother's death at the hands of Russians, he joined the insurgents and became a legendary figure to the Islamic militias around the world. Without any real training, he became a veteran responsible for hundreds of kills ranging from regular Russian soldier to high-ranking officials alike. Not only that he became an assassin of great repuation, he also became an expert in asymmetric warfare as he started to take out bombers, transport helicopters and tanks exceeding the crisis faced by Israelis and Americans in the Second Gulf War. The situation became so serious that he was nicknamed as Arsalan bin Laden, and became the most wanted man in Soviet Russia. At some point of time, for unknown reason, he switched the side to the shock of the locals. He trained and personally led his Soviet special forces that apparently had key impact on the overall war. While his involvement is still classified by the Russian government to this day, the war that dragged on for over a year in the Second Soviet-Afghan War was settled in a mere 3 months when he joined the War of Afghan Liberation.

But long story aside, I first met him in the Sahara desert, when Morocco militias were interrupting the pipe constructions that would connect the recently discovered Saharan oil reserve to the developed world. I was dispatched with some serious veterans, toured from Indochina, the Balkans and other fucked up places… thinking it's just a brat who thought he could spoil himself with thousand virgins in his afterlife.

To put it simple, we completely fucked up. You don't hear that phrase that often from high-ranked officials, so it was pretty serious.

What was a full-strength company of 120 men and women with couple of tanks and heavy weapons were now reduced to 10 exhausted survivors by the time he unexpectedly surrendered unconditionally. Unlike many other sergeants being defiant with words like imperialists and or begging for mercy they think they deserve, he never uttered a word. I knew that he was up to something, so he was chained and locked in the deepest underground bunker, once used to check possible Algerian invasion from the east, for questioning. Despite all the torture techniques, even the infamous water-boarding technique, he would occasionally gasp for air here and there. We first thought he was mentally retarded. The most fiercely loyal and fanatic terrorists could not endure a waterboarding for over 5 minutes. He endured it for over 20 minutes with little sign of stress on his pale face. After exchaning uncomfortable faces, we realized that we were overstepping the line and threw him in a cell... hoping that he would break eventually. How long he really could've endured, we would never know. Most victims experienced long-lasting psychological trauma, if they survived, after 10 miinutes.

The report I submitted after I was transferred was that he somehow managed to get himself free and made a run for it after the petroleum stockpiles combusted and exploded in flames, but we knew better. If not for him, our corpse would be back in Saharan desert, washed away in the sea of sand. He did break free somehow with a small mini-knife he concealed in his crotch (How he did it, only God knows) and freed himself out. We were captured when we were asleep, and Moroccan guards didn't really have a chance against him. I have faced many battles in the past, but I was sure that I was doomed to die this time.

To our sheer amazement, he looked at us with his sincere eyes and warned us about the UN' plan to bomb the stockpile of oil scattered around the village to wipe all the locals out along with my team, and use it as a pretext to completely occupy the region with foreign troops supported by Moroccan government. He carried all of us one by one to a civilian truck as if we were a piece of luggage, and instructed the fleeing locals to release them after the coast was clear. He even treated my broken ankle when he realized that I couldn't walk, as if he has completely forgotten about what we did to him. Never was I so shocked for a completely unexpected kindness, not seen since my dad…

Thanks to him, none of the locals were killed. Of course, we couldn't change the world. He disappeared into the Sahara sandstorm so deep that even the Moroccan troops didn't dare to hunt him down. The stockpile was bombed and the emerging militias fighting for their homeland were blamed. They were forced to relocate from what they called home for hundreds of years to northern coastline, where they began to fish and farm to keep themselves going... so they couldn't evade the inevitable, but they were at least still alive. As for us, we were awarded with medals for standing our ground against the sergeants. I don't know what happened to the 10 survivors anymore, but I was promoted to learn more about amphibious operations in US military base in Los Angles.

Anyway, we've been pretty close ever since we crossed our path again in Los Angles. Somehow, he was no longer on the UN's wanted list and he was now supposedly an immigrant living in the California to be a cook and a waiter in a small local Chinese restaurant. I didn't know why he was there, but he made among the best Chinese cuisine imaginable. He was extremely popular with Chinese customers because of his familiarity with Chinese food. He was very knowledgeable, knowing the preference the northerners, southerners, Taiwanese and others wanted and prepared such a dish that were rare even back in Asia. The local competition, where the best Chinese food they could offer was to simply offer huge variety in disorganized fashion and claim themselves as buffet restaurant, it isn't hard to see why the Yangtze Restaurant became the highest regarded oriental restaurant despite its large but shabby restaurant. Though Misato never had a Chinese food other than the usual westernized 2-combo Chinese takeout, she soon became a loyal customer there. I even offered to be his legal guardian if he had problem… this is coming from a woman who swore to never have kids.

Don't get me wrong, I still have my grudge against him. I am a woman who does not forgive nor forget, but that kid somehow gets along with everyone… and damn, the hell-

__

.

Try to relax. I am stimulating your muscle in order to reduce the swelling.

_Fuck, it's a one hell of a day… _

_Tell me about it... stay still for a bit. _

_You always carry a first-aid kit in your bag? Just.. wow. You got a car repair kit as well while you are at it?_

_It's fortunate that you have a good taste in cars. Most cars would be useless after taking that kind of abuse. We just need it to flip the car over so that we can drive. _

_You are one crazy kid, Shinji-kun. I don't even want to know how much money I have to pay to get it fixed._

_You aren't exactly a normal woman yourself, Katsuragi-san._

_It's Misato-san… damn it, the fucking sprain…_

_Sorry. I forgot that you detested informality... well, it should feel better now. Judging from where the N2 bomb was detonated, I'd imagine we won't have the luxury of time._

_That's rather a big fucking understatement-_

_Can you stand? I can drive. _

_Fuck I can stand… you forget that I am your guardian already?_

_And I am grateful for it. Give me your hand. _

_Huh, what do you know… we landed right next to the liquor store. Shinji… could you be a dear and get me a beer? _

_Always charmed when liquors are involved… what kind?_

_Just grab what you can find, anything would do right now. _

_._

So we went off. It was painfully cliché moment, shown in cheap B-rated movies with apocalyptic ending scenes where a guy and a girl driving out of the plagued city from zombies... well, a nuke in our case.

_._

_  
God, this is good._

_Misato, it's a cheap grade vodka._

_You have no idea what it's like to be sober in a time like this… all those stupid UN coming into Tokyo making a huge mess, it's going to be a long night with piles of paperwork when this is over. Fuck, I really needed this badly._

_Imagine that, a mere vodka saves the heorine' day. Maybe I wouldn't have to order Glenfiddich whisky when this is over._

_Dream on, Shinji-kun. This is just temporally stuff to keep me going. You know what the Scots call that, by the way?_

_Ishca Baha - the water of life. _

_You know, a lot of girls would have been impressed by that._

_Look Misato, my hands are already full as it is. I think I would be doing a girl a favor... can you imagine what kind of mess they would face?_

_I don't know Shinji-kun... girls love the thrill of danger._

_Well, that depends on the level of danger. I don't think any guy would get into your car if they knew..._

_A..HEM. Point taken. But seriously, I know you don't drink... but you gotta try it once with me. You are in the legal age to drink now._

_Well, not that I have anything specific against occasional whisky… but Misato, you were a causal drinker at my age. If someone like you with alcohol tolerance at my age reserved for Irish dockworkers, I don't think I am going to stay conscious for long._

_Ah, come on… that was so unnecessary. I didn't drink whisky when I was your age. Oh, don't give me that look. I don't drink as much as I used to. It's just, I got to have some fine things in special occasions. I mean, with the shit we are facing… even the most sober bastard would drink._

_Good to know that I am already a bastard to you, as you elegantly put it. _

_You aren't getting any sympathies from me, jerk. _

_... you are sure more talkative than before, Misato._

_Well, it's something you learn to deal with when you finally get the balls to get a girl Shinji-kun._

_Not likely._

_Oh, come on. You know I am half-Japanese. I expect a grandchild before I die, if you get the drift… hey, what are you smiling about?_

_I hope for a day when you can open up like this without relying on drinks, Misato-san._

Damn him and his caring… shit, don't back out.

_._

_  
You usually reserve comments like that for your girlfriend, Shinji-kun._

_Ok, I get it. Less talking, more drinking._

_You know me all too well. Oh, hey I'll drink to that._

.

So we continued to drive. The VTOL and transport aircrafts began to buzz around like hungry flies again. And even in the midst of complete chaos and destructions, it was comforting to know that there are still pieces of heaven on what is left of this world… just waiting for to sprout out when the sun comes back again.

.

.

How very wrong he was.

.

* * *

Well, that's the first chapter. A modest note... if anyone with great writing skills see even a bit of potential from this new series, I would be flattered if you could edit my stories before releasing to the public. I promise that you will never be badgered about deadline, as I am a self-proclaimed slacker.

I appreciate any feedbacks, including critics. This is a chance for me to be a good writer, especially when English is not my first language. (For those that never suspected such thing, forget and move on. Ignorance is a bliss)

Stay tuned for the next chapter, well... if I didn't already scared you away.


End file.
